


Bilete sviv innom, slik draumar driv

by Squoxie



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Short lil thing, Sort of sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26730898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squoxie/pseuds/Squoxie
Summary: “When—no, where? Where… are we? Where is this?” he asks. He’s not sure. Come to think of it, wasn’t he elsewhere? Wasn’t he… wasn’t there something…?“We are where we need to be,” Cedric answers him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “And we are on our way elsewhere. I thought I’d wait for you.”
Relationships: (Faintly), (sorta), Cedric/Ciaran aep Easnillien
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Bilete sviv innom, slik draumar driv

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thechemicalgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechemicalgirl/gifts).



> Title means: Pictures swing by, the way dreams drift

Ciaran feels warm and comfortable, peaceful. He turns over, not inclined to wake yet, not when he is so enjoying his rest, when he lies on something so wonderfully soft and secure, when he feels _safe_ for the first time in so long. He wants to sleep.

“How long do you intend to sleep, darling?” a voice asks him, soft and fond and familiar.

“Longer,” Ciaran answers, a half-asleep mumble as he nuzzles the soft surface that he rests his head on. Maybe it’s moss, or flowers, or cotton or silk. Or a cloud.

The familiar voice chuckles warmly, and Ciaran feels gentle fingers tucking his unruly locks behind his ear, a thumb stroking his cheekbone. It’s nice. It’s familiar, that too, though he can’t quite catch from where, or how. He likes this person. He likes them a lot. But he wants to sleep, too. Can’t the lovely person sleep with him?

“Maybe later. Or maybe we are sleeping as it is,” the voice tells him. “Come now, up you go.”

Ciaran grumbles, but finally, he opens his eyes. Crouched in front of him, dark eyes filled with amusement and affection, is Cedric. Ciaran’s breath hitches with surprise, with relief, and he sits up, reaching out. Cedric takes his hand, smiling. He looks different. He looks… he looks healthier. Not so drawn, bags under eyes nearly gone, a gleam in the eye that Ciaran isn’t sure he has ever seen.

“It’s good to see you again, Ciaran,” Cedric says fondly.

“Cedric…” Ciaran murmurs, and a few tears slip out the corner of his eyes, even as his lips stretch into a relieved, joyful grin. “It’s really you. I’ve missed you.”

Cedric nods, and he rises, pulling Ciaran to his feet, and then drawing him into a tight embrace. Ciaran hugs him back just as tight, closing his eyes and savouring the contact, hiding his face in Cedric’s neck, and breathing deeply. Cedric still smells like wood and smoke and forest; a comforting combination Ciaran will always adore. That, and a faint trace of juniper, from the soaps Ciaran knows Cedric to make himself.

“When—no, where? Where… are we? Where is this?” he asks. He’s not sure. Come to think of it, wasn’t he elsewhere? Wasn’t he… wasn’t there something…?

“We are where we need to be,” Cedric answers him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “And we are on our way elsewhere. I thought I’d wait for you.”

Ciaran blinks, drawing just enough away to look at Cedric. “On our way elsewhere…? Where? Why? I’m glad you waited for me. I’m so glad to see you.”

Cedric smiles at him patiently, endlessly patient, and Ciaran thinks he sees something sad pass through his eyes, just for a moment, but he can’t quite catch it. But he wants to know where they’re going. He wants to know where they are. He wants to know what it is that niggles at the back of his mind, the feeling that he’s forgetting something.

“So many questions. You always want to know so much of the world around you,” Cedric remarks softly. “Don’t think so hard on it, my darling. There is no haste, anymore.”

Ciaran leans closer to Cedric again, brows furrowing. No haste anymore? Was there haste? Was there something that needed to be done? He can’t seem to remember. It doesn’t seem so important. He’s comfortable here, where it’s warm and peaceful, where Cedric is happy and kind and waiting for him.

But there’s someone else who is important. Isn’t there? Ciaran’s brows furrow further, before he then realises, and he makes a soft, confused noise.

“Where— I had something to tell Iorveth. I think. Where is he?”

Cedric strokes his back gently, humming. “Iorveth is fine. But we won’t see him for a little while. He has his things to do, and we have ours,” he answers. “Can you smell the apple trees, Ciaran? Maybe we should pick some apples, on our way.”

Ciaran nods slowly. Well, Cedric is probably right. And apples, apples sound fantastic. He _can_ smell them, now that Cedric mentions it. Sweet apples, just like the ones he and Cedric used to find in the forest. The idea of picking apples together again makes him feel warm and happy.

“You’ll pick the sweetest ones for me, right?” he teases.

Cedric places a kiss to his forehead, a smile lurking on his lips, before he takes Ciaran’s hand, and starts walking, starts pulling him along with a playful glint in his eyes. There’s still something faintly sad, just at the back, but Ciaran thinks Cedric will tell him if it is important. He follows, and he smiles.

Cedric squeezes his hand and laughs softly. “Come, Ciaran,” he says. “Let’s go where the apple trees bloom.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to write a lil thing for my lovely friend thechemicalgirl, but it somehow turned sad. I am utterly incapable of writing nice things without making it sad at least at one point or other, it would seem x3


End file.
